The 2012 Disney movie, Wreck-It Ralph, tells the story of an eponymous arcade game character named Ralph. With his signature line, “I’m gonna wreck it,” Ralph destroys the neighborhood and wreaks havoc with his big fists. The video game hero, Fix-It Felix, cleans up Ralph’s destruction with his magic hammer, receives the community’s praise, and is even presented with a medal. The community views Ralph as a troublemaker, an outsider. But Ralph rebels against his villain status and dreams of becoming a hero, and winning his own medal.
Rural pastors often feel like Ralph. They have inherited low attendance, diminishing budgets, and a system in decline. All the while, congregations have clear memories of the way things used to be when the pews and offering plates were full. Rural pastors find themselves in a race with obstacles, sabotage, and factors outside of their control. Their proposed changes are viewed with suspicion, and they keep working harder to patch an old garment (Matthew 9:16). Pastors are expected to channel Felix, to swoop in with a magic hammer and solve problems with a catchy tag line like in the movie, “Fix It Felix, whoop whoop.” If only they can acquire that magic hammer, and learn the right technique, that is sure to bring people back. Then, they too, can save the day and be the hero like Felix.
While congregations want a Felix, perhaps Ralph is what the church needs. Someone not afraid to stand in the margins, to ask difficult questions, to side with outsiders, and to be willing to take risks and fail. To move from fixing to listening toward curiosity and experimenting.
I run a program at Grand View University for rural pastors called the Moses Project. The program encourages rural pastors to listen to God’s quiet voice whispering in the storm, to reflect on their pastoral identity, and listen to their congregation and community. This listening requires time and patience, because people rarely tell you what’s important in the first or second conversion. The name, Moses Project, comes from a verse in Deuteronomy 34:7 that says, “Moses was a hundred and twenty years old when he died, yet his eyes were not weak nor his strength gone.” Funded by grants from Lilly Endowment Inc., Moses aims to increase pastors’ ministry tool bags, connect them to a network of colleagues, provide opportunities to learn from experienced exemplars and mentors, all while receiving generous hospitality. Rural ministry matters, and investing in rural pastors is important. By helping pastors invest in themselves, we hope that they, like Moses, continue to have vision and vitality long into the future. I’ve been doing this work with rural pastors for over six years, and the research data tells a narrative of decline.
The decline includes less institutional affiliation, participation, and resources. Twenty years ago, 42% of US adults attended service every week (or nearly every week). In 2024, that number dropped by 12 percentage points to 30%. Additionally, 35% of 18-29 year olds say they have no religious preference or don’t identity with any specific faith. Attendance and numbers aren’t the only challenges; there’s also been an increase in polarization. In the past few years, political divides have increased and rural pastors find themselves navigating complex political divisions. Financial difficulties are another significant challenge for rural pastors. Some small churches struggle to pay pastors at synod guideline rates, and rural pastors often serve multi-point calls and care for the needs of several congregations. There’s a significant sense of isolation and rural pastors report few close friendships. They also struggle with managing boundaries, navigating the unspoken rules of rural life, and a scarcity of resources. One pastor said, “I love this work, but it’s killing me.” It’s well past time for congregations and pastors to be upfront about the realities facing rural churches.
There are joys and opportunities as well. The narrative is not one of only fear, of gathering the diminishing resources with a tight fist and hoarding them or blaming a changing culture and institution. There is much to celebrate including the creative ways rural pastors listen, respond to needs, and adapt. Rural pastors are good at turning obstacles into opportunities. God’s call has grabbed hold of them and refused to let go, and they maintain a passion and vitality for ministry even in the face of disappointing data.
What we see in the Moses Project is that when rural pastors gather together to share their experiences, when they connect in meaningful ways to each other, when they collaborate and listen to each other, when they have time to worship without responsibility for planning, and have time to rest, they reflect on their calls and return to their congregations more ready to face the challenges. Rural pastors need time for retreat and connection. This retreat time translates into being more present, curious, a willingness to listen, and margin for experimentation.
Rural pastors are good at relationships and building trust. Each Moses cohort participates in research interviews and relationships top the strengths list for many pastors. They know a congregation won’t follow them off the map into unknown territory if they don’t trust their navigation skills on the map, to borrow a phrase from Tod Bolsinger.
The rural church is good at listening, discerning, and experimenting. It’s in their DNA. They’re used to making a meal with a few simple ingredients, operating on a tight budget, creatively using resources. Rural communities know how to innovate. They’ve been doing it for over a hundred years. When rural pastors reframe the language away from the word change (which many rural congregations resist) and toward innovation and experimentation (things small congregations are familiar with), meaningful conversations happen.
On the back cover of Bill Holm’s 1996 book, The Heart Can be Filled Anywhere on Earth, his author biography reads, “He lives in Minneota, Minnesota, in a house that cost $5,000 in 1977 and has since steadily declined in value.” That description captures one view of serving in rural ministry — a decline and diminishing rate of return. The decline narrative, however, isn’t the only story in rural ministry. When pastors focus on renewal and connections, when they continue to forge meaningful relationships with each other and their congregations, when they shift conversations away from the word change and listen, rural ministry can be a place of flourishing. When congregations stop expecting pastors to be Fix-It Felix, when they empower and trust pastors to take risks, opportunities to listen and experiment emerge.
In addition to directing the Moses Project, I’m also the Gerhard Forde professor in Theology at Grand View. In his sermon “God’s Rights,” Forde says, “If we are honest, what chance do we have, other than the sheer generosity of God? What chance do we have if all the laborers do not get the same? Where would we be if we got what we deserved…that’s the way it is with God’s grace—it’s wild…You are God’s own! You were claimed as God’s own in baptism. God did what he wanted, did what he chose—with you. And if you have forgotten that, hear it again. Come and taste it.”
When congregations and pastors hear again God’s call, especially in the midst of decline, the mysterious work of the Spirit moves in unexpected ways. God tends to work in the margins and in out of the way places. When we measure thriving and success by different formulas, one that captures a sacred vision for flourishing, there is much in which to rejoice.
The refrain for song 513 from the ELW goes like this, “Listen, listen, God is calling, through the Word inviting, offering forgiveness, comfort, and joy.” May that chorus spur rural pastors (and their congregation) to give up trying to be Fix-It Felix and embrace Ralph: warts, risks, wreckage, and all.
